Date: Mon, 12 Jan 2015 22:13:39 +0000 (UTC)
From: Aihu Fist <aihufist@yahoo.com>
Subject: THEY LOOKED LIKE SMARTIES

THEY LOOKED LIKE SMARTIES by Aihu Fist

I was on my own, there, in the crowd, watching carnival unfolding in my
face. Masks, dancers, figures mocking the politicians. A procession of cars
carrying a tableau vivant. Confetti twirling over our heads. But it was
quite chilly watching this event. I was dressed not quite prepared for the
temperatures of that day. Fortunately I stood, squeezed between men and
women, however my clothes were not fending of the cold. I was wearing my
thin summer trousers, they hugged my skin tightly. I had a military jacket
which was fashionable among youngsters of my age then. Yes, I was only
thirteen and it looked quiet cool and hip. My round bubble butt must have
stood out from under the jacket that stopped just above the hips. I maybe
looked even younger than my age. I sported a page-like hair cut which
seemed to frame my face and make me look like a girl. Maybe that is what
someone must have thought behind me. Something I felt between my inner
thighs. A kind of a gentle rub trying to get through my thighs. The rub
went back and forth like a saw. At first I dismissed it as something of my
imagination. Then I looked over my shoulder and of course saw nothing but
faces looking at the float in front of them. I was hemmed in by raincoats,
parkas, jackets, I could not move my arms anymore. Again something
encrusted itself right under my arse. I felt something funny. My thoughts
were not with carnival anymore. I looked back and the rub stopped. Old and
young faces, well, older than me for sure. Excited faces who did not see me
looking at them. I shrugged it off. Next, the rub was back, more insistent,
more prominent the feeling of a force that seemed to want to get
somewhere. It wanted to get higher or inside of me. I do not know why but
my body reacted positively to it. Maybe because the rub felt somehow a bit
warm and caused a tingling by my anus. Instinctively I got to stand on my
toes as to avoid the rub, it was very contradictory a feeling to describe
how I felt about it. Every time I looked over my shoulder the rub
stopped. I could not really see something down behind my bum. Was it the
man who stood front to back to me. He was wearing a trench coat and stood
taller than I did, not paying attention to me. I have to admit that the
crowd shuffled back and forth and from left to right and people came and
went. So, I was not sure it the man had anything to do with the rub. Then I
felt like he was getting close, very close to me while others beside me
gave me some space. Again I got hemmed in with more people moving in,
trying to occupy the space the others had left. I decided to move to the
left and find another spot. So for ten minutes the rub went. I forgot
straight away about it and concentrated back on the carnivalesque
characters, but I felt myself lost in the crowd because people around me
were much taller than at the other spot.Then I felt the stab much
stronger. It nearly felt like sitting on a bicycle saddle. The thing,
something pointy pushed forward, deeper and touched my scrotum. My balls
were actually hanging/sitting on this hard thing that had wedged between my
buttocks. I got a strange sensation, similar to the one when I climbed
ropes in gym. I got that tickle feeling in my guts, a heat that seemed to
dry up all the saliva I had in my mouth. It did not stop and did not look
back anymore. Maybe I was being possessed by a spirit, I thought. I just
surrendered to this new feeling, my head reeled with a new sensation in my
body. Every time I felt a slight touch against my ball sac I moved with
it. I surpassed any sound that wanted to get over my lips. The saw grinding
continued. I could not do anything else but give in. I do not know how long
it lasted. I stood there at least fifteen minutes when I felt something
harder than the rub or the saw. It pressed against my backside. Again I
ignored it all, don't ask me why.

I was hungry and decided to leave the crowd and find something to eat. I
made my way through the unmovable pack of bodies, elbowing my way out of
there. I was too young to be allowed into a café, maybe get myself a
packet of french fries. The city was packed with people puking in alleys
and in squares. Everyone was prowling around in groups to make fun of
someone or have fun. i was left alone. I had become dark and lights were
switched on everywhere. I knew my way well in this town. I was so sure of
myself and confident to hang out alone that I never looked over my
shoulder.  Still puzzled about that feeling though I was in a world of my
own. After I had consumed my fries I decided to wander about. I could go an
visit my aunt who lived here, she might welcome me and give me some
chocolate milk. She lived in the periphery, which was a good twenty minutes
walk from the centre. At one point I needed a leak and so I stopped for a
moment and found my self a corner where no one could see me. No street
lanterns. This was quite a quiet street where not a dog was heard. When I
was well tucked away in a corner in the middle of the alley, and I was
sure- I had waited five minutes- that I was alone, I unzipped my fly and
got my mickey out of my underpants and began to piss. My bladder was about
to burst. I sighed as I unleashed the liquid. Just when I looked up to the
sky to find some stars to look at I felt a hand on my bum. Startled and
still pissing I looked around and saw a tall man with a mask on his
face. 
-Keep on pissing, he whispered. I enjoy watching you
doing it, he added.

His hand joined by his other were on both my butt cheeks now. I noticed he
had his shoes in his pockets of his trench coat. He had kept his socks
on. That's why I had not heard him approaching me.

-Keep looking ahead, boy, he said. You have a lovely bum.

Having said that I felt a rubbing, stabbing past my buttocks again.

I realised he was the man who had caused the rub while I was standing in
the crowd.

It was his right hand that stayed put close to my perineum.

When the last golden drop fell on the foot path I heard him say.

-I will keep you warm, dear sweet. Don ´t mind me making you hot while
you drop those trousers, hey?

His arms came from behind and unbuckled my belt. Next he rolled my tight
trousers past my knees after which my undies followed suit.

-Do not look back, little sweet, uncle will take care of you.

I stood out of the cold wind in that corner and he with his trench coat
made a wall around me. His hands were cold and separated my buttocks.

-I will warm my hands in your little bum stove, hihihi, he chuckled.

Another hand wrapped up my limp penis and shrinking ball sack.

-Did you like the rub back there, sweetie?

I could not deny it: I had liked it. So I nodded.

-Great then. Have you ever played with yourself?

-I shook my head; I spoke the truth.

Oh, dear. How old are you?

-Thirteen, sir.

-You are polite too, that is very nice for me.

He held my penis in his hand and slowly pulled back the long foreskin. My
penis began to react by growing and becoming hard.

-Atta nice kid, just what I want.

There was no point looking back at him because he wore a mask, and what a
mask! It had the face of Peter Pan. Well only half of a mask. The mouth was
real but from the nose up to the eyes and hiding his hair it was a mask
that showed Peter Pan's hat and hair.

-How did you know? I asked.

-Know what?

-That I liked you, Peter Pan?

-Oh, well, I recognised you as a lost boy. Totally alone, without parental
guiding. I sensed you were lost in that crowd.

-Did you?

-Here, some coloured sweets.

-Oh, thanks, I said.

They looked like smarties and I ate them with glee. So, yummy they were. I
did not recognise the trench coat at all. His question about the rub did
not alert me at all. How strange that I did not question how come he knew
that. I did not put two and two together then, but now, years after, I
realised that it was him. He was the man who had stood behind me and had
followed me and put a mask on. Not only was he wearing a mask, he also wore
tights like Peter. He continued to slowly masturbate me, occasionally
asking me if I enjoyed it.

-Oh boy, you are responding like a real Lost Boy.

-Thank you Peter, I quipped. I have never been so hard down here as with
you.

-Well, I am very hard too, you know. Only Lost Boys get that hard. As he
spoke the words he had managed to lead my left hand and put it over his
crotch.

-Play with it while I play some more with you.

He worked his hands around my hard gristle and anus and I felt not cold at
all.

-Where do you live boy?

-Not so far from here, but I was on my way to my auntie. I told my mum that
I might be home late or that I would sleep over at a friend's. I mean, some
kids do not sleep until dawn. My mum is not worried at all, and if I do not
pop up at auntie's she too will not be alarmed.

-Really? How swell. Well, you certainly have met a friend and you can come
and sleep over at my place if you like, you may like my place. it is the
place where no one grows cold, but we do grow hard there.

-We? You have brothers and sisters, Peter.

Peter felt a bit of pre-cum sticking to his fingers and said.

-Me, no. I never had any. But I have lots of Lost Boy friendships.

His thumb got stuck and urged forward digging itself into my boy anus.

-Ouch.

-Are you hurting?

-Yes.

-That is a good sign, boy. Because boys who do not grow up are allowed to
cry and feel pain and complain about it. Only boys who grow up do not cry
and we never grow up, don't we?

I winced and let a tear roll over my cheek. it was just sitting there since
he had entered his thumb. His fingers over my ball sac and his thumb inside
of me. The other hand jerking me off; jee it was quite an experience. His
cold hands had become warm, maybe because I was so hotblooded or because of
his blood boiling. I will never know. I do know that I finally surrendered
and shot my first semen into his hand. A few threads, but they were lone
and sticky. I think he licked it up, because he had no handkerchief on him.

The noise was faraway and we had not heard a single soul.

-Hey Lost Boy, he said. Turn around and look at your protector.

I turned on my heels and looked at Peter, dressed in tights and a trench
coat.

-The fun is not over yet, and before you become a real Lost Boy you must
cry some more.

-Really?

I was speechless.

-Let me catch you in my arms, Peter softly said.

He had a huge smile on his face. I could see he was young. No facial hair
at all.

-Feel me up here, boy.

He pointed at his tiny bulge. I placed my hand on it and it pushed it back
a bit. Yes, it was hard like mine had been. Been? Oh dear me, just by
touching his mine was growing hard again. He saw that.

-Undress me, boy. Please, do it and play with me.

I had no trouble peeling the tights down and what I saw was not frightening
at all.

His cock was not bigger than mine and he had no hair around it either.

-Why don't you cool off a bit? I am very hot after I made you shoot a
zillion stars.

So, I blew on it, harder and harder. His penis played its part. Like a
guard it stood and seemed to want to flutter when I blew on it. By
surprise, as I inhaled to blow again, his tiny rod rammed my mouth and
ended up between my teeth, touching my tongue. There it stayed and he
grabbed my head and pushed it deeper over my tongue.

-Stay where you are and show me what a lost boy you will be.

Just like with the rub in the crowd I felt pleasantly unsure as what to
think of this activity. I pretty much enjoyed it until I began to gasp and
gag. His penis went faster and faster, my tongue too.

He paused and rammed in again this time dragging his balls into it to. I
must say I always had a big mouth and his cock was not bigger than mine. A
good nine centimetres long.

He stopped again and said; -You do not cry...are you sure you have not
grown up?

-No, I am not a big boy. Look, I do not have hair on my penis and I have no
beard or moustache either.

-OK that is fair enough.

Peter asked me to take off my trousers and undies. I obliged without a
word. He took a step back and looked at me.

-What a boy! Peter chuckled.

He crouched and picked me up.

-Put your legs around my back, and enjoy, he ordered.

Then he shuffled his tights down and walked me toward the facade of the
house we stood by.

He plastered me against the wall and let me come down a bit.

-We do not grow up, baby but we do like to make love like little boys
do. Spit in my hand as much as you can, little brother.

I spat a whole wad in his hand that disappeared underneath my bum.

 I sank a little lower and felt a piece of hard flesh touch my
sac. Something sliding from the sac down and below it.

-Ready now, he said.

A very hot thing entered my boy hole, slowly but surely. I felt the invader
to be too hard and harsh. I bit my lip and shuddered. The rub was back, but
it was inside me now. I realised it was his penis and I was lucky that it
was a small one. Stab after stab he jabbed me. I moaned and began to
cry. Tears started rolling down my cheeks.

He laughed and said; I knew you were a Lost Boy.

He licked my tears from my face and the humping increased as my sobbing and
snivelling increased. After some time I got used to the humping and the
tear well had dried up. My calves met with his buttocks which were hard and
muscled. With every thrust in me his hamstrings tensed.

-Cry baby, cry, and do not stop.


He put me down and coaxed my mouth over his cock again and
humped away, while he yanked at my hair so that I started crying all
over. That is when he sprayed his Pan semen in my mouth and over my face.

-Eat it, boy, thesis boy seed and it will keep you boy for ever.

I ate it all, it did not taste bad at all. Within seconds my head spun
around. The semen tasted sweet and sour.

-Please sir, can I have some more? I heard myself ask.

More? Are you sure? I heard him laugh.

More jazz landed in my gullet and I started seeing stars and light
flashes. All sorts of psychedelic colours. When he had emptied his balls
they came dangling in front of nose and lips. Instinctively I opened my
mouth wide enough and kissed them before the entered and did what they call
tea bagging today, but I enjoyed it all. The bag was soft like a peach and
the balls in it were all chewable.

-Go on, he quipped, bite, chew, lick them. Something I heard, and I cannot
remember if he said it or I dreamt it. 
-Suck them, lap them up,
those hairless balls of mine, it makes me cry with joy about the pain you
inflict on me.

He began to cry, his tears falling on my nose and eyes.

-Boys do cry, he sobbed loudly.

I chewed and bit the rubbery balls as much as I could muster. So that what
a satyr tastes like, I thought. Oh and how do I know? Well, I forgot to
tell you that when he banged me, I felt his furry legs brushing against my
bottom and sometimes I caught his goat tail with my feet when he was deep
enough in me. Oh, well reader, you must be thinking I made it all up. The
hairy legs were there I am sure, as sure as I know that he had a hairless
chest and hairless ball sac too. I sucked and bit them after all, didn't I?

-Are you tired, sweetie? He asked when he was finished crying over the pain
I had inflicted on his precious balls.

-Yes, I am, a little.

I looked up and I was staring into the face of a man in a trench coat with
a little Alpine hat on his head. He had back trousers and back shoes on. He
smiled and helped me on my feet. My trousers were lying on the pavement,
inside out. My undies soiled behind my back. Thus I stood half naked
against the wall in a dark alley with a stranger holding my hand. He
carried my trousers, my shoes, and underpants under his arm and hummed a
tune to me.

-Don't worry, son, he said. I understand, I have been young too, you know
and after all, it is carnival for everyone.

I walked hand in hand over cobble stones toward the other end of the
alley. My eyes trying to adjust to a strong light shining from that end.

-Where are we going, sir?

-Where you will be safe and warm, he replied.

-----------------------------------------

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